The Savior
by The Lord of Fanfiction
Summary: In the last moments of the Last Great Time War Rassilon took steps no one had expected. With the Doctor's plans not known to him he shepherded another Time Lord off of Gallifrey to prevent their race's extinction. This child, though known as the Savior on Gallifrey came to be known as Harry Potter on earth.
1. Gallifrey

Gallifrey had long since earned its title of The Shining World of the Seven Systems. Located in the Kasterborous system it was one of the most beautiful planets in creation with orange suns the color of Earth's setting sun and fields of red grass with shimmering mountains capped with snow. The planet could take your breath away.

And on the continent of the Wild Endeavor, in the mountains of Solace and Solitude was the intimidating Citadel of the Time Lords who inhabited the planet. The Time Lords, the oldest and wisest race in the galaxy, had long since sworn to never interfere with the rest of the universe. A hefty oath considered their organic time machines known as TARDIS'. But then came the Time Wars. Long, bloody and horrific wars between the wise Time Lords and the hateful Daleks created by the twisted mind of Davros.

Daleks, despite their claim of having no emotion but hate seemed to have a since of irony. It seemed there would only be twelve Time Wars and that the Time Lords had won. But then, after a century of silence the Daleks returned and laid siege to the Gallifrey. It was a surprise attack that prevented the Time Lords from true retaliation and the Daleks received the upper hand in the 13th and Last Great Time War. You may be wondering why that is ironic.

Well you see, a Time Lord, though he or she may appear human is anything but. The race had a way of cheating death. When a Time Lord received a life threatening wound or just had the whim to, he or she could regenerate and begin an entirely new life. A Time Lord could regenerate twelve times giving the Time Lords 13 lives.

And this is where we find the Time Lords. On the losing side of a war with the rest of creation at stake. The Daleks have all but overrun the entirety of Gallifrey and what remains of the Time Lord forces is holed up in the Citadel. The once beautiful world was now marred by fire and blood and the once glimmering Citadel smoked and crumbled.

It is at this time that we find Rassilon, the President of the Time Lords has called a War Council, aware that Gallifrey and the Time Lords have only hours.

**_(*)_**

Flanked by two guards Rassilon walked down a long, narrow pathway towards a closed door. Above him the roof was crumbling and fire and smoke could be seen outside. A look of sheer determination masked his face while his guards looked only sullen and depressed.

Briefly stopped before the door, Rassilon withdrew a key and inserted it into the door. It clicked and the door opened. Rassilon proceeded into a dark room with a long, narrow table. There were five seats, not counting his own. One held his second in command, another his head of military, another his advocate for the people, another was strangely empty, and in the last one sat a woman with wild hair, strange markings, and a crazed look on her face.

Rassilon gazed at the empty seat as he sat down with a shrewd look in his eyes.

"Where is the Doctor?" he asked the group before him.

"We do not know, sir, but he is not responding to the multiple summons we have sent to him," his second in command, the Strategist, answered. The Seer, the crazed woman at the end of the table, cackled madly at this but said nothing. "We lost contact with both him and the Master after the two of them sealed the Rift at the Medusa Cascade. Although, the Master's disappearance is…different."

"How?"

"The Doctor, we know, is still alive. His TARDIS is an antique and cannot easily be misplaced. The Master however, has disappeared completely. His TARDIS has gone silent as if sleeping, indicating that he –"

"Used his chameleon circuit to desert us," Rassilon finished with a light growl in his voice. After casting a final glance at the Doctor's empty seat, he shook his head. "No matter. The Master has always been a bit…crazy. And The Doctor is not overly influential." Once more the Seer cackled. Rassilon lightly glared at her.

Then he sighed and dropped his face into his hands for a brief moment. When his head lifted once more his eyes held a deep sadness that many Time Lords believed he was not capable of. "I will not sugarcoat this. We face our end. The Daleks have won, there is no disputing that. Perhaps if we had been more prepared, but we cannot change the past."

"Fat lot of good the TARDIS' are," the General, his military leader, murmured. The rest of the contingency glared at him.

"However," Rassilon spoke again. "The Time Lords are the oldest race in the galaxy and we cannot afford to have them wiped out. We…must….survive."

"But you just stated that we face our end. How can we preserve our race? A group of Time Lords could never make it off of Gallifrey," The Advocate spoke, with a curious look in her green eyes.

"I know. And I do not mean to send a group of Time Lords off of Gallifrey."

"Then how else do we preserve our race?" The General asked gruffly.

"So long as one Time Lord lives…we survive."

"There is still the problem of getting a Time Lord off of Gallifrey. No ship, no matter how small will escape the Daleks' notice."

"I do not mean to use a ship."

"Dammit Rassilon, stop with your cryptic words and get to the heart of the matter! What is your plan?!"

"We need to get a Time Lord off of Gallifrey," Rassilon began. "But there is the small matter of the Daleks being able to detect any Time Lord that is off of Gallifrey."

"You don't mean to…" The Advocate trailed off, a dangerous look in her eyes.

Rassilon nodded solemnly. "I WILL NOT ALLOW THS!" The Advocate screamed. "TO DO SUCH A THING! TO PLACE A BURDEN LIKE THAT ON…ON A…IS DEPLORABLE, RASSILON! Many Time Lords believe you to be a heartless megalomaniac and this would only prove them right!"

"SILENCE!" Rassilon exclaimed and the Advocate immediately did so. "Do not presume that I enjoy doing this."

"Excuse me," the General interrupted, an annoyed look on his face, "but perhaps you two could explain to us exactly what you're talking about?"

"Rassilon means to send a child off of Gallifrey," the Advocate said grudgingly.

The General gazed at Rassilon. "How young?"

"A woman in the Citadel had her child five days ago." Rassilon held up a hand to silence the Advocate before she could start. "It was a forced labor. Premature by 2 weeks. She is dyeing and will be dead in 3 days."

"Where will you send the child?"

"Due to our….mode of transportation let's call it, I have no control over where the child will end up, nor the circumstances of its life."

"Excuse me, but we have yet to touch on the subject of how we are to get the child off of Gallifrey," the Strategist interrupted.

"The Daleks would shoot any ship or probe down, but one thing they have no control over is the Untempered Schysm."

"You mean to get the child off of Gallifrey via the Untempered Schysm?" the Advocate asked, utter shock coloring her voice and face.

"That is…quite intelligent," the General muttered.

"The Schysm is the vortex, raw and powerful, and it is friend to the Time Lords. It will sense our need and shepherd the child away to a safe place. Or, safe until the Daleks arrive at wherever the child ends up."

"Where is the child now?" The Strategist asked.

"I have asked an elite guard to pick him up. He should arrive soon."

"When are we to depart? I will remind you, my Lord that it is possible we won't even make it to the Schysm. It is deep in Dalek territory."

"No. No. No. No. Make it. You will make it. The Savior will survive. Several times. Survive several times. Take the child. Take the Savior. Through the Schysm." The insane babbling of the Seer came from across the table.

Rassilon looked up. "We will survive? You're sure?"

"Survive. Survive. Survive. Savior will survive. Savior's death is fixed point. Savior's death not on Gallifrey."

"The Savior? You mean the child?" The Advocate asked.

"The Savior, the child. One and the same."

The Advocate gazed at Rassilon. "It must be the child's title."

"Wait, wait, wait," the General interrupted. "You said the child's death was fixed and that it wasn't on Gallifrey. But you said nothing of our deaths."

The Seer said nothing and only cackled madly. "I don't think that's a good sign," the General muttered.

"It doesn't matter," Rassilon said. "Either we die getting the child off of Gallifrey or we die at the hands of the Daleks."

"Good point."

Quite suddenly the doors opened and five men walked in, one holding a silent bundle in his arms.

"We have the child, Lord President," the one who held the bundle said.

"Good," Rassilon said, gazing down at the boy. It would do no good to remember his face. The Schysm would most likely rearrange his appearance to match the parents he would end up with. "Prepare yourself for battle," he said, taking the bundle from his arms. "We are going to the Schysm.

"Why…?" the man began but changed his mind. "Yes, Lord President."

"I still do not like this, Rassilon," the Advocate spoke up as the General stood and joined him.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but as I said before it doesn't matter. If this child escapes then the Time Lords live. If he does not then we all die, including him."

The Advocate stubbornly kept her mask of unhappiness but Rassilon could see in her eyes that she knew he was right.

**_(*)_**

3 hours later, Rassilon held the Savior in his arms as he, the General and a group of thirty warriors neared the Schysm. A group of Daleks had given chase at the start of their journey but they had killed or shaken them off. Now, their ship was reaching the drop point and they were preparing their weapons and armor.

Quite suddenly the craft came to a halt and the door opened. Slowly, the group of 32 Time Lords stepped out and onto the ground. Wasting no time they began their walk into down the path they all knew.

The Untempered Schysm was up and around the hill they faced so it did not take long for it to come into view. The sight that was before them was not a welcome one however. At least 2 dozen Daleks moved around the Schysm. A few were inspected it while others were simply moving around. Others remained still and a few looked like they were speaking to Dalek command.

One of those who had been sitting still did not remain so for long. It's eyestalk moved up and turned to stare at them.

"Time Lord detected!" Its high voice rang out and all Dalek activity stopped as every eye stalk turned toward them.

"Ready yourselves!" the General shouted.

"Exterminate!" they seemed to shout at once. The well-known word echoed across the hills and mountains and seemed to resonate deep within every Time Lord there.

And the Time Lords charged. That in itself was a rarity. In the entirety of the 13th Time War the Daleks had begun every attack, always making the first move. It turned out to be a good move as three Daleks were taken out in the first wave and two more after that.

If you asked Rassilon what the battle he had just fought in was like, he would not be able to tell you. Rassilon could honestly not remember a single battle he had ever been. Not in detail anyway. Throughout every battle, Rassilon was fueled by adrenaline and nothing else. Adrenaline did not do wonders for the memory. Rassilon could remember bright flashes of lasers flying through the wind. He could remember the explosion that occurred as those lasers struck Daleks or the bright flare that appeared when they struck his fellow Time Lords.

Rassilon did not fire a single shot from his weapon. In fact he merely through it to the ground, tightened his grip on the Savior and sprinted at full speed towards the Untempered Schysm. Finally the Schysm was within arm's reach and Rassilon remembered one thing. He remembered immense pain as the laser of a Dalek struck him. Rassilon fell to his knees in agony and gazed at the child in his arms.

"You are…the Savior. Through you…the Time Lords live!" And he threw the child into the Schysm. With the first cry, Rassilon had heard the baby give, it disappeared into the vortex. Rassilon gazed down at his hands with blurred vision. They had just started to glow a golden color.

"Exterminate!" Another Dalek laser sent Rassilon to the ground, never to move again. "Rassilon. Is. Dead!"

**_(*)_**

And so things were set in place that none had expected. The Savior appeared on Earth in the arms of Lily Potter looking exactly like her husband, James Potter. Both had memories of pregnancy and labor and having him and both loved him dearly. The Savior was now known as Harry Potter, though he would likely never forget his title. A Time Lord never did after all.

At the same time the Doctor committed an act none had expected of him. The Doctor would prove to be very influential as he burned his race and the Daleks and Time Locked Gallifrey and the Time War before fleeing and regenerating, believing himself to be the last Time Lord.


	2. Regeneration

The Savior, or Harry as he was now known, it seemed, was not born into what could be considered the best life. Do not be mistaken. His 'parents' loved him and catered to his every need. He needed only make a sound and his 'mother' appeared to soothe him.

But Lily and James had a rather large secret and it was a dangerous one. Lily and James were both a witch and a wizard and rather powerful ones. Both were kind hearted people who fought passionately for the light. Or, at least they did before they had to go into hiding. You see the Potters had made a name for themselves. Three times they had defied the Dark Lord, Voldemort and now it was coming back to bite them in the ass. Voldemort, it seemed, had grown tired of the annoyance that was the Potters and started a vigorous search for them as well another family, the Longbottoms who had defied Voldemort just as the Potters had. Interestingly enough, the Longbottoms also had a one year old named Neville.

Despite the ever present threat of death, the Potters were a happy family and were, mostly, content with their lives.

**_(*)_**

Voldemort had indeed grown tired of the Potters but that was not the reason he was hunting them so passionately. No, he hunted the Potters and the Longbottoms for one very secret reason that only one other knew. Severus Snape, his loyal potions master had overheard a conversation between the old man, Dumbledore and the deranged seer Trelawney.

Well, I say conversation, but it was more of a one sided thing. Trelawney, Severus reported, had spoken in a clipped, raspy voice and spoke words that made Voldemort shiver in fear. Something he'd not done since childhood.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born but not born to those who have thrice defied him. Born as the seventh month dies._

Severus had not heard the rest of the prophecy, something he'd been punished severely for, but the pretense was clear. Voldemort had considered for several days who the prophecy might speak of and he came to the conclusion that it had to either be the Potters or the Longbottoms. Voldemort's task was clear. He had to destroy this child before it could become a threat to him.

Immediately Voldemort had issued orders that the Potters and the Longbottoms were to be found and brought to him. But Dumbledore was not as much of a fool as Voldemort would like him to be. Both families disappeared into hiding, under the fidelius charm and, as powerful as Voldemort was, unless he had a general area of where they were, he would not be able to eradicate the charm that hid the families.

That had been a year ago and Voldemort had started to get hopeless. Until one day, Bellatrix Lestrange, his most faithful servant brought before him Peter Pettigrew, the Potters' friend. Voldemort had took one look at the man and knew he would need no Cruciatus to make him speak. The man was shaking in his boots.

"Where is the Potters' secret keeper, Pettigrew?" Voldemort asked, his voice cold and sinister.

"I…I…I…d…don't kn…don't know," he stuttered out attempting to fake confidence. Voldemort looked at Bellatrix who, with a sickeningly happy smile grabbed hold of the man's hair and pulled his head back eliciting a loud cry of pain from him. Bellatrix brandished a knife (from where Voldemort didn't know and he'd rather not think about it) and placed the blade on Pettigrew's throat.

"One more time. Where are the Potters?"

"Y…you wo…wo…won't k…kill me," Pettigrew said, a sliver of confidence leaking into his voice. Bellatrix growled and pulled his hair again. Pettigrew yelped.

"Oh?" Voldemort asked. "And why's that?"

"Be…Because if y…you kill m…me y…you wo…won't get what you w…want."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, then snorted. "You're smarter than you look, Pettigrew, but I don't need you to talk to get the information I want." Voldemort brandished his wand. "Legillimens."

Pettigrew's mental barriers were a disgrace. Voldemort ripped through them like wet tissue paper and memories flooded his senses. Voldemort quickly sifted through looking for references of the Potters. Pettigrew, at the very least, knew how to control his memories. Though he couldn't stop Voldemort from gazing at memories of the Potters he had a sliver of control over which ones he saw. He threw several childhood memories at him but Voldemort silenced his backlash with a quick mental strike. Now free of the nuisance Voldemort peered at much more recent events. The most notable being the choosing of the Potters' secret keeper. Or rather, the changing of it. Voldemort's eyes widened as he exited Pettigrew's mind.

"You?" Voldemort asked. "The Potters' made…you…their secret keeper? Why?"

"You don't already know?" Pettigrew asked, a spiteful look on his face. Once more Bellatrix pulled his hair.

"ANSWER HIM!" she roared.

"AH! Fine. The Potters m…made me the k…keeper because th…they knew everyone w…would think S…Sirius would be the k…keeper," Pettigrew said, his nervous stutter returning.

"They were right about that. So where are they?"

"Wh…why would I t…tell you?" Pettigrew questioned.

"Come now, Peter," Voldemort said in a tone one might use on a child. "We both know that this war is already won. I am merely cleaning up the scraps at this point. Tell me the location of the Potters and I can offer you protection. You may join me and never need to worry about yourself again."

It seemed that Peter was not happy that he was considering it. Nonetheless he was. "Y…you would pr…protect me? I c…could join you?"

"Master –" Bellatrix attempted.

"Silence," Voldemort interrupted. "Yes Peter. But I must have the Potters' location." Voldemort nodded at Bellatrix once more who growled and released her grip on the man. For several moments the room was silent as Peter considered the offer. After five minutes of silence, Voldemort readied his wand, preparing to Crucio the location out of the man.

Then, Peter spoke with only the slightest trace of hesitation in his voice. "G…Godric's Hallow. The Potters reside at Godric's Hallow."

Voldemort smiled.

**_(*)_**

Two weeks later Voldemort found himself standing barefoot on Halloween night outside of the Potter resident. His long cloak billowed in the wind and a cruel smile adorned his face. All in all he looked quite terrifying. Wand in hand, Voldemort stood still as stone gazing at the cozy cottage before him. The inside was lit and the light flickered indicating candles were providing the light. The curtains were partially closed, shielding most of the inside from his view but he did manage to catch a quick glimpse of Lily Potter holding a laughing child before she closed the curtains completely.

Somewhere deep within him Voldemort regretted what he was about to do. He had always been a cruel human with dreams of power and wealth but the innocence a child could never shake off had always told him he was no monster. Now Voldemort felt different. He could always walk away, of course, but he knew he wouldn't be able to do that. Voldemort felt no regret at taking the life of any who opposed him, but killing a child was much different. After this, Voldemort knew there would be no doubt in him or anyone else. He was a monster and he was almost ready to believe himself insane.

Nonetheless Voldemort took a deep breath as his right forearm stung briefly. A signal. Bellatrix had engaged the Longbottom household. His right foot moved and before he knew it he was walking down the path towards the Potters' front door.

**_(*)_**

The night had been rather uneventful for the Potters. They had planned to put young Harry to bed and perhaps play a few games of Rummy which both were fond of. Harry, though, thought otherwise. He had no intentions of going to sleep and cried every time he was laid down. Any other time he was as happy as could be and laughed an angelic laugh that warmed his parents' souls.

So Lily and James had proceeded with their plans of playing Rummy and continuously passed Harry around, letting him choose the cards each would lay down or play. Harry, it seemed, was a momma's boy for under Harry's guidance Lily won 8 matches and James didn't win any.

"Harry," James whined in a high voice. "What are you doing? It's supposed to be the girls vs. the boys. And last I checked you were a boy." James donned a contemplative look on his face and made to open his son's shorts. Lily slapped him on the shoulder.

"James!"

"What? I'm old, Lily, my memories fading." Lily pursed her lips and gave him a hard look. James laughed and handed her Harry. Without her consent a smile formed on her face and she carried Harry over towards the bookshelf, closing the curtains on the window as she went.

"How about we read a book, huh?" Lily asked her son and Harry only laughed. Smiling Lily picked up her copy of Tales of Beetle and the Bard before walking back and sitting down. Lily had a tradition when it came to reading stories to her son. She would randomly open the book and whatever story she opened to she would read.

And so Lily opened her book and happened to land on the title page of a story. "The Three Brothers. I haven't read that one yet." Lily cleared her throat and prepared to read.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Lily and James froze while Harry, unbeknownst to the danger they were now in, kept laughing. Lily and James knew this could mean only one thing. Neither Sirius nor Remus had their location anymore and Peter had taken an unbreakable vow to never come back here.

"Peter," James whispered, ashen faced.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

At the final knock every candle in the house blew out.

"Lily," James whispered urgently, brandishing his wand. "Take Harry and go. Go. Now!"

"I'm not leaving you!" she said firmly, gripping Harry, who had stopped laughing, tightly.

James cupped his wife's face lovingly. "Lily dear, I love you, but I am not as important as Harry. You must take him and leave! Go." Lily truly wanted to fight but knew she wouldn't win. Not this one. So, with tears streaming down her face she ran upstairs.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Lumos." James spoke firmly. A small ball of light flew above him, illuminating the room. Walking slowly, James stopped before the door and, with his hand slightly shaking, opened it.

There stood Lord Voldemort, fully cloaked with a smirk on his face.

Ever the prankster James spoke. "We don't want any thin mints."

Voldemort cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. "It's a muggle thing," James explained.

"Ah," Voldemort nodded. "Avada Kedavra." James dropped like a rock.

Voldemort stepped over James' body and walked up the stairs slowly and calmly. He had set up his own anti apparition and anti portkey wards around the house. Lily and the boy weren't going anywhere.

Voldemort reached the baby room and found the door cracked. Pushing the door open, Voldemort took in the sight of Lily attempting to activate a Portkey. On seeing him, she gasped and dropped it before placing Harry into the crib and placing herself in-between them.

"Please, not Harry," she cried.

"Stand aside, you foolish girl," Voldemort said, remembering a promise he had made.

"Please. Please don't take him. Please!"

"I said stand aside!"

"PLEASE!"

Voldemort stepped forward menacingly. "I swore to Severus I would do everything I could to keep you alive. Step. Aside."

Though momentarily surprised, Lily did not stop. "Please. Please don't take my son. No one can be that heartless, not even you."

Voldemort stood still for a moment, his face stony before he growled. "Avada Kedavra." Lily fell to the floor. Voldemort looked at her for several moments before stepping forward. Finally, Voldemort's gaze fell on the child in the crib. Remarkably, he wasn't crying. It was if he knew something Voldemort didn't. Voldemort could see it in his eyes. There was more to this child than what met the eye. It was a shame he wouldn't be able to find out what it was.

"I'm sorry," Voldemort muttered the two words he thought he'd never say. "Avada Kedavra."

The green light sped from Voldemort wand and connected with the child's forehead and Harry's head flew back. He did not die though and Voldemort gazed in astonishment at the child who now had a red lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Harry slowly lifted his head. He had a pained and groggy look in his eyes. Then something happened that puzzled Voldemort even more. The boy began to glow a golden color outlined by Avada Kedavra green.

Quite suddenly the boy exploded in a blast of gold and green energy that nearly leveled the house and sent Voldemort flying backwards.

Pain, like he had never imagined flooded his body and mind. He felt his very soul being ripped from the Earth despite his Horcruxes. And he was scared.

Meanwhile, Harry's entire body was glowing a golden color. He was regenerating which was very rare for one so young. It was rare that a Time Lord child ever came into contact with something that could harm them enough to regenerate. Time Lords were resilient people after all.

Nonetheless, Harry's wound healed quickly and the magic had already been expelled. The bleeding lightning bolt on his forehead healed to a red scar. It's at this point that a Time Lord's appearance and very persona would change. But as I said earlier children, no matter their race, always had an innocence that they could not shake off. Harry gazed down at the dying Dark Lord and took pity on him.

With amazing force Harry redirected his regenerative energy toward Voldemort who then began to glow as well. Bu this point Harry did not have enough regenerative energy left over to heal the man, but he did have enough to allow his Horcruxes to anchor him to the Earth. Voldemort became a spirit, a spectral being and he fled the Potter residence.

Finally, Harry ceased glowing and fell back into his crib, unconscious. Only one thing remained with Harry that day. A lightning bolt scar that housed a piece of Voldemort's soul which he would one day draw his magic from.

**_(*)_**

Meanwhile, a 900 year old Time Lord on his tenth regeneration sat with a wide grin on his face inside his TARDIS. He and his companion Martha had just stopped Doctor Lazarus from his evil experiments and they were sitting in the console room sipping tea while laughing and talking.

Quite suddenly, the laughter was interrupted by a loud beeping coming from the monitor. Curious the Doctor set his tea down and walked over. As his eyes scanned the monitor, they widened and his jaw dropped slightly.

"What?" he whispered, gazing intently at the screen. He pulled his Sonic Screwdriver out and scanned the device making sure it wasn't malfunctioning. It wasn't. "What? What?! WHAT?!"


	3. Adoption

Martha had, quite frankly, never seen a funnier image in her life. The Doctor, dressed in his blue sit and converse was staring wide eyed at the monitor. His jaw was hanging open, his glasses had fallen from his hand in amazement and his already messy hair was made even more so by him running his hands through it. Martha had never seen the Doctor surprised so she was having a hard time holding her laughter in.

Quite suddenly the Doctor's mouth went from hanging open to a large grin. His eyes returned to normal and he practically skipped to the other side of the console, flipping switches and pressing buttons as he went. Finally he stopped and rested his hand on a rather large lever. He looked up at her with the largest grin she'd ever seen on him. And that was saying something.

"Doctor, what is it?" she asked, no longer amused but generally curious.

Rather than replying, the Doctor pulled the lever. Sighing, Martha braced herself for the shaking she had become accustomed to, yet it never came. She heard the noise of the TARDIS but the shaking the normally went hand in hand with it never came. She gazed questioningly at the Doctor but found that he was back at the monitor gazing at intently. He muttering in some language she'd never heard and gazing at it intently.

"1981, October 31st, well at least it's not Christmas, 11:39 P.M., England." The Doctor said the words so quietly she barely heard them. She supposed that's where they were going.

Finally, the TARDIS gave one small rumble indicating that they had landed. "That was nice. Can we travel like that more often?"

The Doctor didn't answer. He had donned his brown coat and glasses once more and his Sonic Screwdriver was in hand. Currently, he was gazing at the door with what Martha thought was fear.

"Doctor what's out there? What is it? Why are we here?" she asked. The Doctor replied in a language she couldn't understand which was strange. The Doctor had said that the TARDIS translated all alien languages.

"Dead, dead," she heard him mutter in English, "all dead. How is he alive? Who is he?"

"Doctor?" she asked more firmly. "What? Is? Out? There?"

He walked forward, stopping briefly before the door. Sighing, he opened it and stepped outside. Quite angry, Martha followed him, intending to give him a piece of her mind. She stopped dead when she took in the sight before him.

A house, though once a cozy, comfortable little cottage was now practically levelled. Glass and wood and stone clothed the ground and the air was hazy with black smoke. Small fires lit the inside of the house though not enough to worry about.

The Doctor suddenly took in a breath beside her which she didn't think was a particularly good idea considering all the smoke. It did not seem to affect the Doctor though as he opened his eyes. She saw a new determination in them. Determination like she'd never seen before. The Doctor quickly set off for the front door, Martha following quickly behind. Martha coughed as they neared the house. The smoke was getting thicker and Martha was actually getting a bit worried about the Doctor. Normally, the Doctor would have gone into an explanation about how dangerous the smoke was for a human and advise her not to go in before she went in anyways. The Doctor, though had bypassed their usual routine and she didn't like it.

The Doctor pushed open the front door.

"Oh my, God," Martha said, putting her hands over her mouth. The Doctor bent down and examined the body in the doorway. He closed his eyes for a few moments before standing up.

"Not him," he whispered before moving further into the house. Martha looked on in astonishment. He had not even said his signature 'sorry'.

Martha choked back as sob as she stepped over the man's body and followed the Doctor inside. The living room was hazy with smoke and a small fire crackled in the corner, illuminating the room.

The Doctor was wasting no time. Martha had never seen her friend so determined in all her life. His foot fell on every other step, an easy feat for his long legs. Said legs easily carried him up the stairs, down the hall and through a doorway.

Martha sobbed again. She couldn't help it. Seeing dead bodies was not something she was accustomed to and this was the second one within a matter of seconds. A few tears trailed down her cheeks.

"Time Lord," the Doctor whispered in awe. Martha's head snapped up. The Doctor was holding a baby who was smiling at him. Martha noticed that the baby looked remarkably like the man downstairs. Obviously his son.

"What? What did you say?"

A grin slowly formed on his face as he stared, awestruck at the baby who gave a short laugh. The Doctor laughed along with him and turned to Martha. "Time Lord. There's no doubt about it, this baby's Time Lord. Here, feel." He offered up the boy's chest and Martha tentatively stretched a hand out and pressed it against the boy's chest. Martha gasped as she felt twin hearts beating.

"But you said you were the last one!" Martha shouted. "And wouldn't they feel that?"

"Well maybe, but more than likely there's some form of perception filter around him. And I was," the Doctor grinned, a short laugh accompanying the words. "Well, I thought I was, anyway. Thing is, they burned, the Time Lords, all of them. And that's not just a rumor or speculation, I did it." A sad look came across his face for a moment before he grinned again as he looked at the boy. "But you, you survived. And how'd you do it, just a child. Or did you regenerate into this. Did you regenerate into a baby? Not unheard of but a one in a million chance. It's probably what levelled this house?"

"What? Doctor what are you talking about?" Martha asked, confused. She had no idea what he was saying.

"Well, the first time's always a bit…explosive. If this was his first time, of course."

"Doctor, you're not explaining," Martha said, growing a bit annoyed with the Doctor. His moods were aggravating her but at least now she understood why. The Doctor must have known that a Time Lord was here and she could understand why he would be so…different. He believed himself to be the last one.

"It's difficult to explain. Later, I'll tell you later," the Doctor promised and Martha shook her head.

"I'm holding you to that."

"But what's your name?" the Doctor grinned, looking the child in the eyes.

"Harry," a new voice said, making Martha gasp and jump behind the Doctor. "But who are you?"

In the doorway, illuminated by the fire, was a man dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with a t-shirt. He had scraggly black hair and intense, bloodshot eyes. His skin was pale, but not sickly so and his muscles toned. Martha could just make out tear stains on his cheeks.

"Martha," the Doctor said, handing the child to him. Surprised it took Martha a moment to grab him. Martha had never held a baby in her life but she felt like this one wasn't a problem child. In fact he laughed as sat in her arms and she began to bounce him instinctively. The man narrowed his eyes at this(Martha took note)but didn't change course. He raised a stick and pointed it at the Doctor's face.

"Ah. Wizard, eh?"

"What?" Martha and the man asked simultaneously.

"Well, not surprising," the Doctor continued as if they hadn't said anything. "1981, the great Wizarding War. Hundreds dead. Thousands. And for nothing but bigotry. Although, mind you, 1981, I thought this was the year the war ended?"

"How do you know about this? You don't look wizard."

"Neither do you," the Doctor indicated to his clothing. The man blushed slightly.

"Yes, well I've always like muggle clothing."

"Hold on, hold on, hold on!" Martha shouted, losing her temper. "First, you suddenly wiz the TARDIS off somewhere without telling me, tell me nothing of why we're here, barge into a burning, crumbling house, littered with dead bodies, pick up a baby and say he's a Time Lord before you start talking to this guy about magic which you told me didn't exist."

"Yes, well I lied, didn't I? I do that a lot, you might as well get used to it, but back to the matter at hand." He turned to the man and extended his hand. "I'm the Doctor, who're you?"

The man did not shake it. "Doctor who?"

The Doctor grinned. "Just the Doctor. Now, it's polite to tell you your name. Now, what is it?"

"You know what's not polite? Walking into someone who recently died's house and picking up their child as if you have a right to."

"I do actually. He's much more mine than he ever was there."

"How dare you?" the man hissed. He brandished his wand. "Stupefy!" Martha gasped as a red beam shot from the wand and flew towards the Doctor at an alarming rate. The Doctor had Time Lord reflexes, however and dodged it. The man's jaw dropped as the Doctor crossed the space between them and grabbed the wand from his hand.

"Come on, now, there's a child in the room. What kind of example are you setting?" The Doctor placed the man's wand in his coat pocket. "Now I'll ask you again. What's your name? And there's no use not telling me, I've got your wand."

"Sirius Black." The Doctor froze for a second.

"Sirius Black," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"But mind you, Sirius Black, what are you doing here? No wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, let me guess." The Doctor paced a bit, clicking his tongue.

"Oh," he said after a few moments. "Oh. Oh. Oh! 1981, the end of the Great Wizarding World and Sirius Black in a burning building before…..Sirius Black, godfather to Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The Doctor turned to Harry who was still laughing in Martha's arms. "Oh."

"The Boy-Who-what?" Sirius asked.

"You'll find out." The Doctor looked back at Sirius. "Look, I'm afraid I just can't let you take him. He's mine you see, in ways you couldn't possibly understand. And I can't lose him now."

"Doctor," Martha began but changed her mind.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you're not just going to take my godson."

"And how're you gonna stop me? I've got your wand, remember?"

"I was taught basic hand to hand in auror training." The Doctor laughed.

"Many things you may be, Sirius Black, but a combatant you are not. At least not with your fists. I'm taking the boy, and you can't stop me."

"You just watch me," Sirius said and lunged forward. Quick as a flash the Doctor had his screwdriver out and it was wringing loudly. Immediately the tell-tale sign of the TARDIS' engines filled the room and the TARDIS began to materialize around them. Sirius froze in shock and within seconds the Doctor, Martha, and Harry had been shielded by the big blue box. The door, though creaked open and the Doctor grinned.

"Here you are," the Doctor said and threw his wand to him. The door closed behind him and the Doctor sprinted towards the console.

"Where are we going?" Martha asked in a slightly strained voice.

"Anywhere but here. Space. Empty space. Thousand light-years from Earth."

"Doctor, my arm's getting tired," Martha whined.

"Oh, yes, sorry," the Doctor said and took Harry from her arms. He grinned as he carried the child across the console, flipping switches and pulling levers as he went.

"Doctor, we just kidnapped a child. Won't the authorities be looking for him for years?"

"Doubt it. At least not the muggle ones. The magical ones will never stop looking for him. But so long as he arrives at Hogwarts on September first when he's eleven he'll be just fine."

"What?" was all Martha could say.

"You'll need a crash course on what to expect when he gets older, but that can come later. For now we've got to figure out a few things."

**_(*)_**

An hour later, the TARDIS had finished its scan on Harry and the Doctor had finished reading through it.

"Interesting."

"What?"

"He didn't regenerate to this state, he's generally a year old. And it's practically unheard of for a child to regenerate that young. Even more curious is that he didn't change his appearance." The Doctor had explained to Martha about regeneration while the TARDIS was scanning Harry.

"You mean he looked like this before. Well what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing except is begs a question. Where did the excess energy go? It can't just dissipate it has to go somewhere or change the Time Lord."

"So what could this mean?"

"No idea," the Doctor said. "This child raises a lot of questions. Questions I'll need answers to but not now. No, now all that matters is I'm not the last Time Lord. I'm not alone anymore."

"So what, you're going to adopt him. Be his daddy?" Martha teased.

"Oh yes. And I'm sure he'll love his mommy too." The Doctor grinned before exiting the room, leaving Martha in shock. She hadn't thought of that.

"Shit."


	4. Express and Sorting

Harry Potter, freshly eleven years old, sat comfortably inside a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, a wide grin on his face. The seat was plush and comfy and Harry could easily see himself taking a nap on it later in the ride. Right now though, he was a bundle of nerves. Harry was no stranger to dangerous situations, you couldn't be living with the Doctor in the TARDIS, but this was a whole new situation. Going to a school of magic and witchcraft where logic was no doubt disregarded like last night's chewed chicken wasn't something he was particularly looking forward to. On the other hand…magic! Something he hadn't thought existed for several years until, on his Eleventh birthday 6 days ago, his father had sat him down and told him of a secret world on Earth (his favorite planet) that practiced magic and wizardry and that he was a part of it.

Harry didn't really know how he was part of this world. He was a Time Lord for Rassilon's sake. A pure Time Lord, born on Gallifrey. How could he have magic native to Earth? Nonetheless he did, and the Doctor took him to a wonderful place called Diagon Alley to purchase the things necessary for his school year. After the books and the cauldron and the gloves and the robes and the cat, whom he'd named Rassilon (his father gave him a withering look every time he called the cat by his name) he had expected to go and collect his wand from Ollivander's but the Doctor had steered him into Knockturn alley and kept him close as they walked into Borgan and Burke's.

Borgan had gasped as they walked inside. "D…D…Doctor, wh…what can I…I do for you?" Harry wondered how the man knew his father, but the Doctor merely gave the man a look Harry had only seen when he looked at those he truly hated.

"My son needs a wand," was all his father had said.

"Of…of course," Borgan said, though he looked extremely confused at the word son. "Custom made, I assume."

"Of course." Borgan nodded quickly and motioned for Harry to follow him into the back room. Harry, very used to walking into a room brimming with danger, eagerly stepped forward, and the Doctor let him.

Trembling, Borgan had led Harry into a room filled with blocks of wood and tubes filled with all form of objects. Feathers, eyes, liquids, and many other things he didn't feel like describing.

"Pl…please stretch your hand out Mr.…?" Borgan trailed off uncertainly. Harry smiled.

"Harry will do just fine." Harry had of course been taught manners and in most cases he called his elders Mr. or Ms. or Mrs. but Borgan did not deserve the respect and Harry felt he wouldn't be able to keep the sarcasm out of his voice if he called him by his title.

"Harry, yes, yes, please stretch your hand out and pick up a few of these sticks. Each is made of a different wood, though they're obviously coreless. See which one feels…right in your hands."

Harry tried several, though they all felt rather…empty and by the fifth one he was feeling rather foolish. Until finally on his 7th try he picked up a blackened 'wand' and it felt rather natural in his hands. "This one."

"Ch…charred Cherry wood. Interesting. Very well." Borgan than shuffled over to the opposite side of the room. "Please do the same thing with these vials."

Harry did so and it took him even longer to find the ones he liked out of these. He found one he was particularly interested in on the third try. It was phoenix tear, though it didn't feel…complete. So he continued until he came to his seventeenth vial that contained a green liquid. It was just like the phoenix tears. He liked it, but it wasn't perfect.

"I don't get it," he had said with a light harrumph.

"What is it?" Borgan asked.

"I like two of these but neither of them seem quite right. Like they aren't whole."

Borgan gulped. "Hmmm. I assume you're like…like your father?"

"How do you mean?" Harry asked.

Borgan lightly tapped his chest. "Tw…two hearts?"

"Oh!" Harry said, drawing the word out. "Yes, yes, of course, but what does that have to do with it."

"A wizard's core is directly tied to his heart, Mr. Potter. If one gives out the other cannot continue functioning. Having two hearts means having to magical cores which may require two cores in your wand. Pick up the ones you like, please."

Harry did so and he gasped slightly. They felt absolutely perfect together. He felt calm and peaceful yet fiery and chaotic at the same time. Borgan fidgeted.

"Phoenix Tears and Basilisk Venom. A very strange combination Mr. Potter. Nonetheless, it is your combination and it shall be made. Give me 3 to 4 hours."

Harry's wand had been made and it had been perfect. He loved every aspect of it and he had pored over the curriculum seeing if he might be able to learn and try any spells. He unfortunately was only able to cast one. Alohamora. A spell that unlocked doors. Something completely useless to him since he had his Sonic Screwdriver.

Now Harry sat in his compartment reminiscing about his life. It had been interesting of course, so very interesting. Living with his parents, there was never a dull moment. He'd had so many adventures, so many near death experiences he'd lost count. He doubted his mother had.

Martha had taken a few weeks to warm up to being a mother but after she did she hadn't let a soul touch her child. She loved him dearly and wouldn't trade her new life for the world. The Doctor had surprised Martha. He had been the perfect parent, though it was immediately clear she would have to be the one to punish him when he broke the rules. Otherwise, he was perfect. He could make Harry laugh, he could stop his crying, he could change diapers, feed him, everything. It was as if he had done it all before. Something Martha had pondered for quite a long time.

Harry grew very fast, faster than Martha liked. She knew all too well where he'd have to go at the age of 11 and she wanted him to stay a child as long as possible. But soon he was five and Martha could keep the Doctor from his adventures no more.

Harry was brought along into danger for once and Martha didn't like it one bit. She would learn later that the danger had, apparently, never been real. The Doctor had called in some favors to fake some dangerous situations that were never actually dangerous. To prepare Harry for the life he would live with them, he had said. Of course, Harry never knew the danger was fake and so when he was seven and he was put into actual danger he never knew the difference. He turned out to be just like his father, jumping into situations when he had no idea about what would happen and generally having no regard for his own life. His mother had shouted at him many times for wandering off without one of them on an alien planet.

Soon enough though, he turned 11 and his father had sat him down to tell him about the magical world he would be entering.

And so here we find Harry. Inside a compartment, on a train speeding towards a school in Scotland.

He was lucky that his father had also warned him about how famous he was. Harry Potter was apparently very, very famous in the magical world and no one had seen him. Supposedly he had been staying with Muggles. Three people had come by looking for Harry, all of them doe eyed fan girls.

His scar was hidden by his hair which looked _exactly_ like the Doctor's. Harry had learned at a young age that he could change aspects of his appearance at will. As soon as he learned this he had adopted the Doctor's hair.

As for his clothing he had mainly adopted a male version of his mother's primary attire. A red leather jacket, blue jeans and a brown shirt.

By Harry's estimate they were about halfway through the ride when there was a knock at the door and it opened. Harry had been feeling his Sonic Screwdriver when the door opened.

"Yes?" Harry asked. The boy had bright red hair (Harry nearly turned his nose up at it. He know idea what his father's obsession with ginger hair was.) and wore Hogwarts robes. Dirt smudged his nose and he had a bit of depressed, worn look in his eyes.

"Mind if I sit in here? Everywhere else is full." Harry sincerely doubted that was true. A train this big had to have several open compartments.

Nonetheless Harry nodded. "Course you can, yeah. Rassilon, make some room for our guest." His blue eyed, black furred cat gave him a withering stare before he jumped from his seat and jumped none too lightly onto Harry groin.

"Oomph!" Harry gasped. "You big lug, you did that on purpose." Rassilon merely gave him a haughty stare, lifting his nose into the air.

"Rassilon? That's a strange name," the boy said.

"Family name. He was an Uncle," Harry lied smoothly. You had to be able to lie while travelling with the Doctor.

"Ah. He your familiar?" Ron asked. Harry grinned.

"Suppose he is, yeah. Hadn't thought of that. Never had a familiar." He gazed at the cat. "Mind you though, I think I could've gotten a better looking one." Rassilon not so subtly extended his claws on Harry's groin. Harry squirmed in discomfort. "Alright come on now, only joking."

"I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley. You are?"

"Harry." Ron's eyes widened.

"You're not Harry Potter are you?" Ron's eyes were about as big as those fan girls that had passed through earlier were.

"No," Harry smiled.

"Well what's your last name then?"

"Smith. Harry Smith." Ron nodded, a bit put out.

"Ah. Well I've got a pet to you now. He's a rat named Scabbers." Ron reached into his pocket, obviously meaning to retrieve the rat.

"Whoa, there, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Harry warned.

"Well, why not?" Ron asked, looking affronted.

"I've got in my lap a cat with some painfully sharp claws, I assure you, and you want to bring a rat out of your pocket?" Harry asked. Ron gulped.

"Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that."

The door opened once more. Standing in the doorway was a bushy haired girl wearing robes and teeth that were just slightly too big. On her face was an expression that said "I'm smarter than you". It didn't look like she was trying to be smug though, it was merely that she probably was smarter than most humans her age she came across. Harry had the strangest feeling he would like her.

The girl spoke then, her voice mirroring her face, an underlying tone of superiority there. "Hello. I'm Hermione Granger. You haven't by chance seen a Toad have you? A boy named Neville's lost one." Harry smiled. Yes, indeed, he would like her. Willingly going out of her way to help another boy. To find a Toad of all things? Harry believed even he would have trouble doing that.

Ron shook his head. "You might try the Cargo cart. Toads prefer darker, damper places." Hermione nodded.

"Yes, of course, don't know why I didn't think of it. And who might you two be?"

"Ron Weasley," Ron answered first.

"You've got dirt on your nose, did you know?" Hermione asked in response. Ron blushed and immediately started rubbing his nose. "And you?"

"Harry. Harry Smith, pleased to meet you." Harry grinned.

"Are you a muggleborn?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"No." A partial lie but mostly true. His father certainly wasn't a muggle.

"Well then why are you wearing muggle clothes?" Hermione asked, enjoying seemingly poking holes in his logic. Harry smiled.

"Well for one, they're comfortable. Robes are so itchy and I chafe, you see. For another I look quite stylish in them if I do say so myself." Hermione blushed a bit as he listed his reasons. What's wrong with someone other than a muggleborn wearing muggle clothes?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"N…nothing it's just that I haven't seen it before. Have…have you two read any of the schoolwork yet. I've already memorized most of the curriculum. Potions was the most difficult one but I got it in the end."

Harry furrowed his brow. "You memorized the entire first year coursework?" Hermione confirmed it with a nod. "Why?"

"Well, because it's school, of course," she said as if that explained everything. Harry had, of course, memorized his coursework as well but it wasn't because he had wanted to. All Time Lords practically had photographic memories. If he was human he certainly would not have memorized it.

"Ah. Yes, of course. Well, I believe you were looking for a Toad?" Hermione gasped as if she had only just remembered.

"Oh, I'd forgotten. I don't often do that, just so you know. By the way, I've spoken with the conductor. He says we'll be arriving soon. You might want to change into your robes."

"Yes, of course, thank you for the reminder, Ms. Granger, though we can't quite do that with you standing in the doorway now can we?" Hermione blushed beet red and took off down the train, closing the compartment door behind her.

"Mental, that one," Ron said.

"Oh I don't know," Harry said. "Break her out of that studious, rules must be followed thing she's got and she might be alright."

"Well I'll leave that to you," Ron muttered. After that they did change into their robes, to much groaning from Harry. He had meant what he said when he had spoken of robes being itchy and uncomfortable.

Afterwards they continued to talk about the magical world. What house they thought they'd be in. Harry learned Ron despised anything Slytherin and loved Gryffindor with a passion. Ron talked at length about Quidditch, something Harry wasn't all that interested in. He got into enough life threatening situations without being up in the air on a broom, thank you very much.

At one point a blonde boy with two hulking lackeys passed by the compartment and made to open until they saw who was inside. The boy merely sneered and continued moving. Soon enough, the train came to a stop and the students filed outside.

"Firs' years o'er 'ere! Firs' years! O'er 'ere come on!" A hulking man with a giant beard was shouting. Harry laughed gleefully as he caught sight of him.

"Brilliant! Who's that, do you know?" he asked Ron.

"Oh that's Hagrid," he said. "Dad told me about him. He's a lot nicer than he looks, he says."

Well, he must be a jolly good guy, then, 'cause he looks fantastic!" Harry sprinted forward and stopped before the man.

"Hello, pleased to meet you! Might I ask how you got so big, it's wonderful!" Hagrid gawked at him a bit before breaking out in a short bit of laughter.

"Yer the firs' to ever say tha'. Me name's Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid and, uh, well, it's a secre'. Come by me place one day and I'll tell ya abou' it. But what's yer name?"

"Harry, sir, Harry Smith and it was lovely to meet you. I'll be going now but I'll see you again." Harry ran off at that, never seeing Hagrid's eyes wet a bit at the name Harry.

Hagrid coughed a bit as he came up behind the first years, shaking his mood off. "Righ', uh, no more 'an four to boat. Go on then." Hagrid, of course, took up a boat by himself and Harry and Ron were quickly joined by Hermione and a trembling boy whom Hermione introduced as Neville Longbottom.

"Did you find your toad?" Harry asked. Neville nodded, a shaky smile on his face.

"Hermione told me it was you who told her where to find it. Thanks."

"Not one problem at all, Neville. I'm Harry Smith and the ginger hear is Ron Weasley." Ron huffed in annoyance but offered a hello to Neville nonetheless.

"Any idea what house you'll be in?" Harry asked the two.

"Hufflepuff," Neville said with the first bit of confidence he had heard in the boy's voice.

"Well what's wrong with that? Loyalty's a great trait. Not at all useless. Do your house proud, whichever one you get. And you Hermione?"

Hermione had been gazing at him with a form of admiration on her face as Neville perked up at Harry's words so she had been startled by the question. "Oh, yes, umm….Ravenclaw most likely. I love to learn."

"Wonderful woman, Rowena Ravenclaw. Brilliance to the brim of her brain, she had. Not that I'd know of course but they have to call Ravenclaw the House of the Intelligent for a reason, eh?" But Harry did know.

After he had learned of Hogwarts he had asked his father to take him back to meet the four founders. They had been lovely people, all of them. Slytherin was a bit snobbish, but polite and kind all the same. Gryffindor was brash and like to talk about himself but he always helped those who needed it. Hufflepuff was a kind woman on the heavier side who loved children. Harry especially. As for Ravenclaw, she had been Harry's favorite. Most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and she had the most wonderful thoughts and inventions and innovations. Harry loved every second of speaking with her.

He was interrupted from his reprieve by a loud chorus of 'oohs' and 'ahhs'. Harry looked up and grinned as he saw the reason for it. Hogwarts had come into view and it was truly a magnificent sight.

"Ah. Now that's lovely isn't it? Everything I've seen and I never get tired of beauty. And it never stops giving." The rest of them looked at him a bit strangely. What could an 11 year old have possibly seen after all? He paid them no heed.

Before long the boats had stopped and the students were led by Hagrid up to a set of doors and handed off to a stern woman in green dress.

"Professor McGonagall, they're all here."

"Thank you, Hagrid and what of…." she trailed off. Hagrid leaned in and whispered something in her ear and she nodded. "Thank you, Hagrid, I will see you at the feast."

"Aye, Professor." With that, Hagrid lumbered off and the students were led into a large room where two large doors greeted them.

"In a few moments," she began, "you will be led through these doors and sorted into your house. There are four houses, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Each have their own merits and each has produced outstanding wizards. While you are here your house will be like your family. Answering questions correctly and adhering to the rules will earn you house points while any rule breaking will lose you house points. Understood?" The students nodded. "Please wait here for a moment."

With that McGonagall stepped inside the large room and left them to themselves. For the most part they were silent, chatting to themselves and such until that blonde boy they'd seen earlier stepped forward.

"All right, now either Harry Potter's here or he's dead." Several people gasped at that and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "If he is here would he please step forward?" Harry remained rooted to his spot. It would be senseless to step forward now. No, it would be much more fun to wait until he was called up to be sorted to reveal himself. It was obvious what the boy was doing. Establishing himself as the "alpha male". When Harry didn't appear he believed himself to be the only person who would lead the first years. Harry would enjoy the look on his face when he was called up to be sorted.

After that dispute the first years were led inside the Great Hall and were alphabetically called up to be sorted. He didn't pay much attention except for when Hermione went to Ravenclaw, Neville went to Hufflepuff, Ron went to Gryffindor and that blonde ponce Malfoy went to Slytherin. Finally, though, he heard the name he was looking for.

"Harry Potter," Professor McGonagall called out. He saw Malfoy adopt a superior smirk at the Slytherin table and Harry smirked himself as he stepped forward and up the steps.

"Yep, that's me, Harry Potter." McGonagall didn't really didn't know what to say to that so she just motioned for him to sit down. Harry did so and the last thing he saw before the hat covered his eyes was Malfoy's infuriated face.

He knew he'd have to let down his mental barriers to allow the hat in. He had seen it before when he had met the founders.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, long time no see. How long has it been, five thousand years?"

"For you. Only a couple days for me."

"Ah, Time Travel, I do love the concept. And how is dear old Doctor?"

"No doubt he's enjoying my absence a bit. He can go on his dangerous adventures without having Mom nag him about my safety."

"Hell hath no fury like a mother's scorn Mr. Potter."

"Don't need to tell me. I really would love to continue this conversation but I believe we have a more pressing matter."

"Ah yes, but where to put you. Hufflepuff is out of the question. You're loyal but only to those who have earned it. You're also much too powerful and important to be put there. Ravenclaw would be suitable. You're intelligent and enjoy learning and Rowena did love you. However, you do not actively seek education you just don't rebuke it when it appears. Gryffindor is a good fit. You do enjoy running head first into danger. You and that vampire had a lovely time together didn't you?"

"Oh yes, and I do so love the wonderful scar he left on my back and my chest and left leg," Harry's reply was dripping with sarcasm. The hat chuckled.

"Finally, we have Slytherin. You certainly are cunning enough to be put there and your ambitions aren't very large but you are driven. Hmmm, well what say you, Mr. Potter?"

"Honestly, I don't care. I loved Ravenclaw as much as she loved me, Gryffindor was a self-indulged good guy and Slytherin was a bit snobbish but they were all good people. Put me where you want."

If the hat could nod Harry thought he would. "Hmmm, yes, a good answer. I think you'll do well in…."


	5. Slytherin

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouted for the whole of Hogwarts to hear.

"Slytherin really?" Harry asked. At that point McGonagall took off the hat and, with shock in her eyes pointed to the Slytherin table. Not one person clapped as Harry Potter made his way across the Great Hall and sat down beside a pretty girl, Daphne Greengrass if he remembered correctly, with Blonde hair and blue eyes.

Suddenly a slow clap could be heard. Harry attributed it to that kind of slow clap a villain does when you've discovered his master plan. He looked up and saw a black, greasy haired man in black robes with a small smile on his face. His eyes, however, were hard as ice. Slowly, the rest of Slytherin joined in and were soon joined by the Hufflepuffs, led by Neville, and the Ravenclaws, led by Hermione. Gryffindor, however, remained silent. As did Draco Malfoy whom, Harry noted, had a mask of pure hatred on his face.

"Erm, yes, right," McGonagall coughed and continued with the sorting. A minimal number of students were sorted after that ending with Blaise Zabini who joined Harry in Slytherin. By this point the entire Hall had worked up quite an appetite and were ready to eat. Harry had dove into Slytherin like it was nothing even though he received only tentative responses. He had said hello to Blaise Zabini and gotten a hello back but nothing more. He had Daphne's name out of her and he had been right about who she was. He had also introduced himself to Tracey Davis who was the warmest out of the three she met. She said hello, gave him her name and even divulged she was a half-blood. At one point Harry glanced over to the other tables. Neville looked a bit scared but he was talking easily with a pretty red headed girl. Hermione was laughing and talking avidly with a few older Ravenclaw students. Ron however was looking at him like he was a traitor. As if he'd wronged him somehow. Harry shrugged it off as Dumbledore stood and addressed the hall.

"Hello and welcome. To you older years welcome back to another year at Hogwarts. To all first years we welcome you with open arms and look forward to teaching you. Now I know you're all hungry, we at the staff table are as well so I'll not waste your time. Just a few quick announcements. For you first years, the Forbidden Forest is called so for a reason. You are not to enter without strict instruction otherwise. A few older years, namely the Weasley twins, would benefit from remembering this as well." Said twins, who must have been Ron's older brothers, merely adopted innocent looks. Dumbledore smiled. "Mr. Filch has modified the list of restricted items. For reference see the list outside his office. Magic in the corridors is strictly forbidden and last but not least, any who do not wish to die a horrible and painful death should stear clear of the third floor corridor. Now, for the food."

And with that the tables were filled with food. Harry wasted no time filling his plate will all form of delicacies. He made eager and avid conversation with any who he saw seemingly ignorant to their tentative and hesitant answer. But one thought stood out in his mind. He'd be exploring that corridor as soon as possible.

**_(*)_**

After the delicious and long feast the first years were led by two prefects down towards the dungeons. They stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary stone wall. It looked the same as any other, dimly lit by waning torches.

"Nitwit," the prefect spoke, annoyance drifting into his tone. Harry understood why. Who came up with the password nitwit?

The stone wall quite suddenly turned to smoke as the password was spoken. The Prefects quickly led the first years through and into a room filled with green lighting. The wall solidified behind them.

"As is tradition, our head of house Professor Snape will explain the rules of Slytherin house," the Prefect said before walking off. In stepped that greasy haired professor he'd seen earlier with a sneer on his face.

"Listen and listen closely for I shall not repeat it. My name is Severus Snape, you will call me Professor Snape and nothing more. I am your head of house and my word is law. You will all do well in your classes or there will be punishments. Potions you will especially excel in, understood?" He waited for no response and continued on. "Though I may not care for you like McGonagall does her cubs or Sprout does her bumbling puffs, I will help you if you come to me. But it will be private. You will not ask for assistance in class. Understood?" Again he waited for no response. "Finally, you may squabble and argue and bicker all you want within these walls but outside this common room you are best friends. There will be no fighting will fellow Slytherins outside. You are a united front. Understood? Good. You may sleep whenever you wish but to do not let it affect your classwork. Potter, I need to speak with you in my office." With that, Snape turned on heel and walked off towards a door in the back of the room, his cloak flourishing behind him.

Harry followed with a skip in his step and several older students looked at him, stunned. No one ever had that much happiness on their face when they walked off to Professor Snape's office. Harry stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

The room was dark, damp and dimly lit. In the center was a wooden desk with several papers on it. There was a comfortable looking bed in the back corner and a shelf filled with vials containing potions and potion ingredients. As Harry neared him Snape took hold of his chin and looked him in the eyes.

With a slight sneer, he whispered, "Of course." Then he let go of him and in a louder, more pronounced voice said, "Sit."

Harry did so, a grin on his face. "What is it you need, Professor?" Snape looked up at him and sneered at the grin on Harry's face.

"I need several things. I need to warn you about something, I need to give you something, I need to ask you something and then I need to send you on your way. First I will warn you. The Headmaster will be speaking with you in his office tomorrow afternoon. Steel yourself and be prepared for that meeting. He's a good man but a bit nosy."

"Thank you for the warning, sir."

"As I said, we are a united front. We protect each other."

"What is it you need to give me?"

"Later. First I must ask you where you have been living." Harry furrowed his brow, suddenly cautious.

"Why would you need to know that, sir? Not that I don't appreciate your concern but I am curious."

Snape's sneer widened. "Because Dumbledore will ask you the very same question tomorrow. I want to know what you will tell him."

Harry grinned. "Ah, yes, of course. Lovely. Well, I've been living with my father. Not James Potter mind you, he's dead. My adoptive father and my adoptive mother, Martha Jones."

"What is your father's name?" Snape asked.

"The Doctor," Harry answered. Snape did not sneer this time. He merely furrowed his brow.

"What kind of name is that?" he asked.

"His kind of name, sir," Harry replied.

"Yes, well, I doubt that answer will be sufficient for the Headmaster. Be prepared to elaborate."

"You said you had something to give me, sir?" Harry was curious about this. Why would this man need to give him something?

Snape sighed. "Yes." Rising from his chair Snape walked over to the wall and tapped a brick with his wand five times. It turned to smoke, much as the door had, and Snape removed a vial before the brick solidified again. He walked back and handed the vial to Harry.

"Each head of house is told when they receive the position that they are to look for a first year with eyes as green as the Avada Kedavra and when they find him they are to give him this vial. We were told there would only ever be one child with these eyes. I will send word to the others tomorrow and inform them to destroy theirs as was also our instruction."

"What is it, sir?" Harry asked for he had no idea.

"I've no idea," Snape answered. "But that vial has sat in this office, in that location for thousands of years. Some say it dates back to the founders. Now, off with you, Potter. I need to sleep."

"Yes, sir, and thank you for the warning."

"Yes, yes." Snape waved him off and Harry began to take his leave. "Potter. Only open that in private." Harry nodded and left the room.

**_(*)_**

20 minutes later Harry found himself inside his bigger on the inside trunk. It wasn't that large. Just a small room for when he wanted to get away from things. Nonetheless it was perfect for opening this vial and discovering what was inside.

And Harry did just that. He unstoppered the bottle and pored its contents out. The liquid, a grey color, was a thick, slow moving liquid that began to take on shape. First it was feet, then legs, then a stomach, then hands and arms and a chest and finally forming a head that Harry knew all too well.

"Hello Salazar," Harry said, more to himself.

"Potter, if you're hearing this than you made it into my house. No idea how, you were as subtle as a giant with cunning to match it when we met. But nonetheless Helga made me make this in case you made it into my house. No one's got eyes like you do so we knew the heads would be able to recognize you. Each of the founder's made one of these so don't feel special, you'd have gotten one no matter what house you got. Rowena will be so disappointed. I swear if you'd been older, she'd have left Godric for you. Wouldn't that have hurt Godric's pride? Would you mind coming back when you're older with that marvelous box of yours?"

Harry laughed at this. "Yes, well, anyway, the point of this little message in a bottle is to welcome you to my house. Even as stupid as you were I've no doubt you'll do it proud. In case this is the last time you hear from me…well, goodbye I suppose. You were a remarkable young lad." With that, the image of the snobbish Salazar Slytherin dissipated and Harry climbed back out of his trunk, into bed and fell asleep.


End file.
